Glimpses of a Life
by Arhtea
Summary: Entry 11 for QLFC season 5. Seasons Greetings. A series of glimpses into a life as it grows older and older.


Author's Note:

Round 11: Seasons Greetings

Team: Pride of Portree

Position: Beater 2

Prompt: Write about growing old on a winter day(s)

Prompts used:

2\. (emotion) bitterness

3\. (dialogue) "You can't start a new chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one."

Word Count: _2280_ excluding Author's Note

 **I've chosen to interpret the prompt quite literally and write about the birthdays of a certain character throughout the ages. Since his birthday is in January, hence this is a story of him growing older and older on winter days.**

 **Spell shock is wizard equivalent of shell shock.**

 **Also this story is slightly AU, deviating from canon in as far as Severus Snape is saved by Potter and Longbottom at the end of Deathly Hallows and lives.**

* * *

 **Glimpses of a Life**

2027

He wakes up early when a few snowflakes blow in from the outside and land on his nose. He grumbles about people leaving the windows open before climbing out of bed and wrapping himself in his black robe. The cold of the winter tends to seep into his bones more quickly now that he is older and he prefers to sit next to the fireplace with a cup of tea in his hand while wrapped in blankets.

The clock on the wall shows almost noon and he notices that the other side of the bed is empty. He smirks and slowly inches downstairs, noticing even before he has made it down that his wife has ignored all his wishes. There's cake and, to his horror, even his age spelled out in chocolate candies on the living room table with his aforementioned wife grinning like a self-satisfied cat. He groans and picks up the cup of coffee the blasted woman has been kind enough to prepare for him in an attempt to make him accept the rest.

* * *

1965

He doesn't understand why his birthday isn't the happy occasion it is for all the other kids. He's five now. It should be a big occasion; instead his parents are fighting again and he isn't even sure they remember what day it is. Nothing separates this day from all the days that came before, and when other kids ask him what he got as a present, he realizes for the first time that birthdays ought to be a happy celebration. He spends the night sulking in his room. His father spends the evening out drinking and his mother lies listlessly on the living room couch; neither of them notice their son's absence. That's the first time he feels the spiteful voice whisper in his mind that they just don't care. No one cares.

* * *

1972

It's his first birthday at Hogwarts and he doesn't expect much from the day based on past experience. It's been snowing and the castle is still empty, as most students are still enjoying their winter break. At least he doesn't have to deal with the Marauders. But to his surprise, there's a package on his trunk, with his name written on it in familiar handwriting. Inside he finds only a few sweets but they make him smile through the whole day.

* * *

1977

The other students, possibly at Lucius's prompting, have prepared a small party. There's cake and butterbeer and even a few presents. In the speech Malfoy makes, he is congratulated for having lived another year. He barely notices. There's no present from Lily. Not even a card that wishes him well. He tries to tell himself that it doesn't matter. This birthday is in every way a hundred times better than anything Lily could afford to put together for him. It is her own fault she doesn't want to be with him anyway. So why does the cake taste like ashes in his mouth?

* * *

1979

Lucius drags them all to a bar to celebrate. He drinks a lot and to his surprise, this is one of the closest-to-normal birthdays he's had. If you don't count the fact that all of the guests wear an ugly tattoo on their inner left forearm and the occasional times one of them goes into a rant about Muggleborns. He only remembers Lily the few times some of them say "Mudblood" and the fancy cocktails Lucius keeps buying help drown out those memories pretty well. He gets home in the wee hours of the morning and feels quite good about having lived another year. May he be given many more to serve the Dark Lord and prove his worth and greatness.

* * *

1981

He is in Azkaban but that is not what makes this birthday the worst he's ever had. Lily Potter is dead and he is alive. That's the thought that wakes him up in the morning. It is cold outside but even colder inside of him and this time it doesn't take a dementor to suck out all of his hope. He has only just turned 21 but the guilt makes it feel like he's lived for far too long. Deep inside he knows that from now on he's living on stolen time. Stolen from Lily.

* * *

1996

Lord Voldemort's return rips open a lot of old wounds that didn't have enough time to properly heal, but he doesn't have time to fall apart. He visits Lily's grave and makes a quiet promise to her that he'll make each year count from now until the monster is destroyed once and for all. If he must continue growing old, he has the obligation to make the years he's got left worth something.

* * *

1998

Alecto Carrow is practically drooling, talking about how she'll discipline the Weasley girl when she returns to Hogwarts. He weighs the pros and cons of strangling the woman and stashing her body in one of the many closets Dumbledore has installed around the headmaster's office. Finally, he decides against it but does hope that the silly girl has enough good sense not to return from Christmas break. He doesn't even remember that it's his birthday until the evening. He has now outlived Lily by seventeen years. Seventeen years of life that he does not deserve. The thought hammers in his head until he downs two bottles of Dreamless Sleep and half a bottle of Firewhiskey. It is ill-advised to take them together but he can't bring himself to care too much about whether he'll wake up tomorrow or not.

* * *

2002

"You can't start a new chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one." That's what the Headmistress keeps telling him, but for him, the chapter doesn't want to end. Call it survivor's guilt like the Muggles, or spell shock brought on by the war like the healers at St. Mungo's. Giving it a name won't make a damn difference in his mind. Not when their blood is forever on his hands; their screams forever ringing in his ears.

There are times when he genuinely thinks he should have died. If only the main characters of this story had more flaws. If only they hadn't been selfless storybook heroes ready to forgive him for everything with such ease. What he would give some nights for a bit of selfish desire for vengeance in Longbottom or a bit of bitterness from Potter that would have made them leave him to die. (Of course, had either of them been in Slytherin, he'd consider the option that they'd only saved his life because they suspected he desired death's embrace more than anything. But they aren't and Gryffindors prefer their revenge in a more straight-forward manner.)

He feels like he is in a story, where everyone else got a happy ending but then settled for marking in a footnote that "oh, he too lived." It is probably the resentment and bitterness (and the almost daily glass of firewhiskey) that makes him feel this way. After all, it is not like they didn't try to help. Potter got him a blanket pardon from the Ministry and even offered to support him financially. He just can't stand the thought of being in their debt. In Jame's Potter's son's debt...

He spends the day wallowing in self-pity, thankful for the small grace that almost all who knew his birthday perished in the war or wisely know not to come near him.

* * *

2004

There's a stranger at the door on this, the day he least wants any visitors. He opens it just to chase her away with a few choice words or even a hex or two. She looks revoltingly cheerful and he doesn't want her anywhere near him. She has come only to ask to stay inside for a few minutes because her car has broken down; she has to wait for the tow-truck and it is freezing outside. He can handle a few minutes, he finally decides.

So why does he end up sitting in his own kitchen, waiting for the woman to make him tea? He'd suspect a conspiracy by McGonagall but he doubts the woman would involve a Muggle, and he can sense nothing but earnestness from the visitor.

She is young and chatty and he finds out a lot about her life that he didn't need to know. He doesn't even notice when or how she gets him talking. He learns later that she works as a lawyer, so cross-examination is her specialty.

He makes the mistake of mentioning it is his birthday, and before he has the chance to stop the madness, there's a cake in his house. On any other day he'd kick her out but somehow dealing with her is still better than the usual birthday routine. He's out of dreamless sleep anyway and the apothecary just recently cut him off.

* * *

Still 2004

After he wakes up the following morning and remembers how he'd spent his birthday lamenting about his life to some complete stranger, that feels like a low point. Not that he'd spilled anything important like "Oh by the way, I was once a wizard Nazi." But he'd said more than he'd have liked and he feels that had been unbecoming even if he is only a mean train-wreck approaching alcoholism. So he decides to search her out and offer her an apology.

Of course, the infernal woman manages to completely ruin his attempt by nearly being assaulted by thugs in front of the courthouse where she has a case in progress. He interferes out of instinct, likely having picked up Potter's horrible and apparently contagious habit of having to play the damn hero. Next thing he knows, they are in a coffee shop getting to know everything about _her_ life. By the end of the first chapter in that particular story he is convinced she'll get herself killed by some of the people she is going up against in court.

He visits the two thugs later and subtly "convinces" them that it would be greatly beneficial to their health never to go near her again. When he returns home he, basket of banana bread of all things awaits him as a thank you. He isn't sure, how the woman found out he'd done anything and he definitely loathes banana bread. In fact, as he thinks how she couldn't even be bothered to find something he actually likes, he considers throwing it out all together. At the last moment he changes his mind though. He has slices of it with his tea and it tastes like dry chalk and disappointment. So why does he end up finishing the whole basket?

They are nothing alike. He is still bitter, mostly about his own choices, and ill-tempered. She is cheery and positive. But talking to her is better than staring at the four walls of his house, even if it is so very hard to admit it, and in turn she seems to be of the unshakable opinion that he is an interesting person to spend time with. Or maybe, he mulls, she is on a mission to kill him with kindness.

* * *

2005

It is most certainly not a date and if you call it that, he'll hex you into a sentient piece of jelly. But when he discovers that she's invited herself over for his next birthday as well, he even makes the effort to fix up the house a bit. Again, it most certainly isn't a date though. He repeats a few more times trying to convince himself. However when he catches himself swallowing a snarky comment about the strawberry meringue pie the woman has brought, he realizes, that he has failed.

* * *

2027

The cake is actually pretty good even though the guests are wholly unnecessary. Still, he plays nice for his wife and accepts the gifts by politely not groaning or making snide remarks. He is surprised to see he actually likes some of them. His wife, however, has apparently decided to finally break him. After the party is over, she coaxes him into taking a walk in the snow. He can't help but comment on how revoltingly cheerful she is being. It is just a bit of frozen water, not some great miracle. She only laughs.

They don't make it too far, though. Wading through the snow takes more effort than it did years ago. Even wizards have yet to cure the sickness of aging. They take a break at the edge of town and she sits for a moment. He smiles down at his wife, then looks up and his gaze falls on the cemetery.

After a few minutes when he still hasn't looked back at her, she stands up and steps closer. He stands like a statue in the snow, his black robes billowing and snowflakes falling gently on his hair. She touches his arm gently and he doesn't pull away. She notices a single tear roll down his cheek but the corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly.

"What is it?" she inquires softly.

"Nothing. I just…I always thought I'd die in the war. I'm happy I got the chance to grow old…with you."

She squeezes his hand and for a moment they both stand there in the snow. Then, a mischievous smile slips onto her face. After a second, a handful of snow hits him with a loud _splat_.

" _Old_ , eh? Speak for yourself!"

His lips curve upwards, preparing a snarky reply but then he stops mid-thought and instead bends down and lobs a snowball back at her. After all, he'd said grow _old_ , not _boring_.


End file.
